Sloop Of The Woods Poem by Joseph M Donatelli

What could be said for any plot of land
That's treeless just a piece of red clay sand
While black loam soil raises great tree stands
Filling green woodlands with bark and trance
Landscapes of live trees made for a chance
A thirty foot sailboat of oak and spruce hewn
Ax and adze carved wood craft floats alone
It's seagoing art with a low polished glow

Planted in a Maine woodlot seedlings grew
Reaching through leaf gaps for sun brew
Future planking of round cellulose true
Feathered bird wings of the hard woods flew
Into canvas wing sails pulled as winds blew
Once Forrest the fast sailboat swims through
The whitecaped waves of deapest blue
This is a proper use for trees to come to

Now and in a generation or two sloops
Of the woods will still be sailing smooth
Mesmerizing all within view of the cruise
The forest stiff sails flying across drifts
White wakes and waves and high water rifts
Bright blue currents heaving hulls uplifted
We are coming about the wind has shifted
Green forests were grown for this purpose